


Why Does Everyone Get It On In Muriel’s Hut

by GhostHand



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Breaking and Entering, Cliche, M/M, Magic used during sex, Penetration, Romantic fireplace, Trans Character, Vaginal Fingering, hermaphrodite, misuse of a bearskin rug, nothing but sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-22
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-05-26 22:06:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15010439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostHand/pseuds/GhostHand
Summary: Pilvo and Esrion seek shelter from a storm in Muriel’s hut when he’s not home, because doesn’t everyone? They try to warm up together.This is just. Pure Smut. Written at one in the morning.





	Why Does Everyone Get It On In Muriel’s Hut

**Author's Note:**

> Somehow these two have unlocked my inner NSFW writing abilities. Esrion belongs to xxxxNatasha.  
> Probably should note Es has both sets of genitals in rare case of working order, and Pilvo is trans and has not yet altered his lower half. Both identify as male. They are very god damn gay for each other.

The wind howled outside, beating rain against the window, and the occasional rumble of thunder emphasizing the storm was far from over. The small space was warming quickly with the heat of the fire, but not enough to shake the bone-deep chill from the downpour Pilvo and Esrion had been caught in. They had been lucky enough to come across the cabin, and perhaps even luckier that the scowling owner was out. The two shook as they hung their clothes up around the fireplace and settled onto the fur rug in front of it.

“Y-You ok-k-kay?” Pilvo asked through chattering teeth. Esrion squeezed his arms around himself and nodded. Still, Pilvo wrapped his arms around Esrion and let his magic flow to his hands, warming them up. He rubbed up and down Esrion’s arms and back.

Esrion sighed into the welcome touch. He didn’t like that his single layer of clothing was clinging wetly to his warmed skin, though.

“Hang on.” Esrion pulled his sopping wet shirt over his head and let it fall to the ground with a plop. For good measure he took everything else off, too. They were all wet anyway, and they’d dry faster if they weren’t on his body.

Pilvo blushed as Esrion turned his bare back to him expectantly. Gently he pushed Esrion’s messy braid over his shoulder and worked his warm hands on his neck and shoulders, massaging the chill away. Unfortunately for Pilvo, Esrion was very vocal about the attention, and his moans only grew as he worked his soothing hands down Esrion’s scarred back. Pilvo could feel the flutter of want with every pleased noise his lover made and squirmed in his seat.

“Pilvo.”

He gulped and looked down at Esrion, who had half turned to him with a sly smirk on his face. The tint of red to his freckles cheeks was barely noticeable in the firelight.

“Don’t you want to get out of those clothes? You’re not going to get any warmer in them.”

Obediently Pilvo stood and stripped out of his last layers. He took out his ruined bun and quickly sat down again, ready to go back to warming his boyfriend if only to hear those noises again.

Esrion sat himself down in Pilvo’s lap as pleased as a cat, leaned back into him, and drew a section of Pilvo’s hair into his hands to play with. Exactly how much he enjoyed Pilvo’s hands roaming over him was on full view to his boyfriend, who bit his lip and blushed deeply. Those hands returned to his skin, kneading down his chest, slender fingers splaying out over his stomach, and Esrion mewled in pleasure.

“Pilvo… please… I’m cold. Warm all of me.”

Pilvo tipped his head down so he could whisper in Esrion’s ear. “As you wish.”

His hands worked their way further down, circling his hips then dipping into the divets where his legs met his body. They teased close to what was quickly growing into a spot of interest but moved away to smooth up his inner thighs. He lightly dragged his fingertips back down before one hand trailed back up Esrion’s body. Pilvo tipped Esrion’s head to the side and kissed his jaw. He kissed his ear, his neck, and as he grabbed tighter to his inner thigh he bit down.

Esrion gasped and hooked his arms around Pilvo’s neck, grabbing a handful of hair to hold onto. “Please! I love your mouth on me. I-I want you to mark me all over.”

Pilvo finished sucking a hickey into Esrion’s neck and released his chin to play with Esrion’s nipples. He twirled the bud between his fingers and smiled down at the effect he was having on his boyfriend’s body. Of course, his reactions were having their own effect on his, and he briefly wondered if it was possible to get off on getting someone else off. As he moved his lower hand to tease at Esrion’s lips, fingers following all the way up his length and he felt the smaller man shudder out a breathy whimper that made Pilvo bite back a groan, he supposed it probably was.

He left bruises on the soft parts of Esrion’s neck while teasing his warm hand further and further into Esrion’s folds, pulling back every so often to give attention to his other parts until his hands were slick. Esrion panted and moaned and begged Pilvo for more.

“Mm, but dear. I’m having fun feeling you squirm in my lap,” Pilvo murmured against his skin. “I like seeing you on display before me. You’re a beautiful sight like this.”

“Pilvo,” Esrion whined. He was about to say more when he felt those long, warm fingers plunge into him. He gasped and bucked his hips, pushing them further in. Esrion’s breath grew heavy as Pilvo slowly pulled his fingers out and worked their way back in just as slowly. The pace he was setting was torture. “Please, please. I can take it. Faster. Pilvo.”

To emphasize his want Esrion ground down on Pilvo’s fingers, a shaky sigh of pleasure making it’s way out of him. Pilvo kissed the side of his head and paused his ministrations, withdrawing completely. Esrion whined but Pilvo placated him with kisses.

“Give me a moment, love?”

Es pouted but nodded. Pilvo turned them so he could lean his back against something, then gripped Esrion’s hips and flipped him around in his lap. Since he finally had a good angle for it he pulled Esrion down into a deep kiss, lips and tongues moving fervently against each other. It seemed like a millennium before either pulled back for air. Esrion gave Pilvo a few less-intense kisses, chasing after his soft lips, and Pilvo chuckled. He placed one hand on Esrion’s ass and pulled him closer before positioning his other hand back where it had been inside of him.

Esrion bit his lip trying to stifle his cry. He panted and Pilvo nosed under his jaw, giving an encouraging kiss followed by a slow lick up to bite at his earlobe. His voice was husky as he asked “will you fuck yourself on my fingers? Can you do that for me?”

“Yes,” Esrion breathed. “Yes, yes, anything to feel you in me.”

He spread his legs obscenely wide and rolled his hips, careful not to drop his weight on his hand, and purred out a string of nonsense as he felt Pilvo’s fingers drag against his inner walls. Pilvo hummed, pleases Esrion was up for his request, and moved his other hand to Esrion’s lower back to keep him steady. He moved his mouth back towards Esrion’s chest. He took some of his skin in his mouth and sucked a fresh mark in a spot over the left side like a badge of their love.

Esrion leaned into him, hands tight on his shoulders, breath heavy in his ear. The wet sounds as he fucked himself on Pilvo were drowned out by the ones he was making. It sent a shudder down Pilvo’s spine and he knew by now there was a wet spot of his own between his legs. Somewhere in the back of his mind he felt bad for the fur rug but he was having trouble caring at the moment.

Esrion pressed himself up against Pilvo, his legs quivering. “I need you. I need your warmth. Please Pilvo, pl-please.”

“Where?”

“Everywhere,” Esrion mewled and his hands felt a little colder.

Pilvo flushed but obeyed. He poured more of his magic outward, radiating heat enough to combat Esrion’s chill, and laid Esrion back against the rug. The fireplace was nothing compared to the touch of Pilvo’s skin as he laid flush against Esrion, rolling his hips down against his neglected member and slowly dragged upwards until Esrion could feel just how wet he’d made him with his wanton display.

“P-please,” Esrion begged again.

While Pilvo would have loved to test out if he could get off on Esrion being pleased alone, he couldn’t say no to that face. He leaned in for a kiss, locking their lips together and moaning into his mouth as he eased himself down onto him. Esrion felt enveloped in his warmth and grabbed at Pilvo’s hair, tugging the golden strands to show his appreciation.

Pilvo braced himself on Esrion’s chest, looking down at the mess of freckles and wavy hair beneath him. He arched his back and dragged himself up before he bounced back down. He was slick enough just from watching and listening to Esrion before, and the way Esrion was gazing up at him now with eyes hooded with lust and a beautiful red flush across his face as white frost formed around his head like an icy halo had Pilvo moving faster.

“You f-feel so good, so-so good. Just like that, y-yes.” Esrion stuttered out praises as Pilvo picked up his pace. He gripped at his powerful legs and felt as they pushed him up and down, his tight heat squeezing him deliciously. The sweat beading on their bodies shone in the firelight, illuminating the planes of his face and torso, catching his hair like it was fire. He thrust up into Pilvo, making his breath catch and his focus slip.

They moved in time, the sound of flesh on flesh and desperate cries reaching a crescendo. They stuttered, Esrion arching up off the ground and Pilvo digging down to keep himself steady as they came. The two collapsed, breathing heavy, riding the bliss with each other held in their arms.

Pilvo was the first to notice it when he put his arm out to pull himself free of Esrion. He yelped and snatched his arm away, looking to see what had shocked him.

“What? What is it?” Esrion asked, quickly inspecting Pilvo’s arm for injuries.

“The- the rug. It’s frozen.” Pilvo nodded to the bearskin rug underneath them, which had indeed formed a noticeable layer of thin ice that turned the fur into jagged clumps.

“O-oh.” Esrion flushed in embarrassment and looked away. “Sorry. I- PILVO!”

“What?”

“The mantle’s on fire!”

Behind them a small fire had caught the wood of the shelf above the fireplace, presumably from when it roared to a blaze just moments before.

“Oh! Whoops.” More panicked than embarrassed Pilvo raised his hand, attempting to get it to reduce into nothing with a push of his magic. Esrion, too, managed to get the ice under control, melting it and soaking the bearskin.

At that moment the door to the hut swung open, a large, ominous figure looming in the doorway. He pushed down his soaking wet hood and surveyed the scene.

“Muriel! I- we-!”

“Sorry! We were just-!”

Without a word Muriel put his hood back up and turned around. He really ought to move, he thought to himself as he went back out into the drizzling remains of the storm. Or invest in better locks.


End file.
